Jftother 


:    ! 


(hchrarv 


z:>^ 


<S^     \C^^ 


't,,^^^  /6t.-U^  ^j/"- 


Nancy's    Mother 


By 


JEAN  CARTER  COCHRAN 


Author  o£ 
"Tkc  Rainbo-ve  in  the  Rain," 
"  Her  Carcasaonne"  and 
"The  Friendly    Stara" 


Copyrighted    1915 
By    Jean    Carter    Cochran 


Recorder   Press 

Plainfield,  N.  J. 


To  Nancy's  Father 

"The  Little  Cherubs  whispered, 

'What  strange  new  soul  Is  this 
Who  Cometh  with  a   robe  besmirched 

Unto  the  place  of  Bliss?' 
Then  spake  the  Eldest  Angel, 

'The  robe  he  wears  is  fair — 
The  groping  fingers  of  the  poor 

Have  held  and  blessed  him   there.' 

"The  Little  Cherubs  whispered, 

'Who  comes  to  be  our  guest 
With  dust  upon  his  garment's  hem 

And  stains  upon  his  breast?' 
Then  spake  the  Eldest  Angel, 

'Most  lovely  is  the  stain — 
The  tears  of  those  he  comforted 

Who  may  not  weep  again.' 


(t  ( 


The   dust  upon  his  garment's   hem. 

My  lips  shall  bow  to  it; 
The  stains  upon  the  breast  of  him 

Are  gems  quite  exquisite. 
O   little  foolish  Cherubs, 

What  truth  is  this  ye  miss? 
There  comes  no  saint  to  Paradise 

Who  does  not  come  like  this.'  " 

— Quoted. 


n 


CHAPTER    I 


Jitnmie,  The  Soldier! 

ILLY  is  practicing  scales;  he  goes 
dum,  dum,  dum,  until  I  am 
most  crazy — I  wish  he  wasn't 
such  a  conscienceful  person, — I 
think  that's  what  you  call  it;  I  want  him  to 
play  with  me  and  I  suppose  he  will  go  on 
this  way  for  a  whole  half  hour. 

As  for  Jimmy,  he  is  no  good  at  all  since 
his  head  was  hurt,  and  he  had  a  patch  put 
on  it;  he  keeps  pretending  he's  a  soldier  all 
day  long,  just  because  they  said  he  was  so 
brave.  He's  in  the  compound  now,  march- 
ing up  and  down,  singing, 

"When  I  grow  up  I'm  going  to  be 
A  captain  of  the  Infantry." 

When  I  beg  to  join  in,  he  says,  "Girls  can't 
be  soldiers;  they  can't  even  vote."  I'd  like 
to  know  if  little  boys  can,  either, — why  do 
boys  put  on  such  airs?" 

Dear  little  Gwen  is  fast  asleep  and  my 
mother  is  going  to  a  feast  at  the  Tai  Tai's 
(official's  wife).  She  said,  "It  is  no  place 
for  little  girls,"  when  I  begged  to  go»  It 
seems  too  bad  that  all  the  really  nice  things 


like  candy  and  Chinese  Feasts  are  bad  for 
children, — it's  not  fair. 

So  you  see  there's  not  much  for  me  to 
amuse  myself  with,  and  I  just  think  I'll  tell 
about  the  time  Jimmy  hurt  his  head.  Ev- 
erybody,— that  is,  my  grandmothers,  grand- 
father, uncles,  aunts  and  cousins, — seemed 
to  like  it  so  much  when  I  told  them  about  be- 
ing lost  in  the  mountains.  As  usual,  we  had 
to  come  to  Kuling,  among  the  mountains  of 
China,  to  spend  our  summer  vacation.  We 
live  in  Hwai  Yuan  in  the  winter,  and  that  is 
where  we  do  our  missionary  work — at  least 
my  father  and  mother  do, — and  we  children 
help  by  being  children.  I  must  explain  to 
you  again,  for  perhaps  you  have  forgotten 
there  are  four  of  us,  Billy,  Jimmy,  Gwen- 
nie  and  Nancy,  only  I  really  come  first  be- 
cause I  am  Nancy  and  I  am  the  oldest.  Now 
I  must  begin  my  story  without  any  more  ex- 
plaining. 

It  was  going  to  be  a  red-letter  day  in  our 
lives.  I  don't  know  exactly  what  that  means, 
but  I'll  put  it  down  and  ask  my  mother  when 
she  comes  home  if  that's  right.  Our  Auntie 
Jeanie  was  coming  all  the  way  from  America 
to  teach  us  children  and  she  was  to  reach 
Kiu  Kiang  that  day, — Kiu  Kiang  is  the  place 
you  get  off  the  river  steamer  to  come  up  the 
mountain.  My  mother  was  wild  with  joy 
at  the  mere  idea  of  some  one  of  her  own 
dear  family  coming  so  many,  many  miles, 
and  so  were  we  all.  She  was  going  down  to 
meet  Auntie  Jeanie,  'cause  we  had  lots  of 


friends  living  all  around  who  could  keep  an 
eye  on  us  children. 

Well,  instead  of  the  day  breaking  fair  and 
bright  as  it  always  does  in  make-believe 
stories,  the  rain  came  down  "in  sheets  and 
pillow  cases,"  as  funny  Atintie  Polly  once 
said.  When  it  rains  in  the  mountains  of 
China  it  always  means  what  it  says;  the  lit- 
tle dried-up  brooks  become  rivers  of  angry 
waters  quick  as  a  wink,  and  the  water  pours 
off  the  roof  so  one  can  hardly  hear  oneself 
think. 

It  takes  more  than  rain  to  disturb  my 
mother  though;  she  just  took  one  glance 
out  of  the  window,  laughed  and  made  a 
funny  remark  and  started  to  work. 

We  were  up  long  before  daylight  so  she 
could  get  Gwennie's  milk  ready,  see  that 
there  was  a  good  dinner  on  hand  for  Auntie 
Jeanie,  and  get  chair  coolies. 

It  was  no  joke  finding  four  chair  coolies 
who  wanted  to  take  that  wet  trip  on  such  a 
day;  the  Chinese  hate  water  almost  as  badly 
as  chickens  do.  When  Mother  thought  she 
had  four,  two  would  suddenly  disappear  and 
she  would  have  to  begin  again.  You  might 
have  thought  It  was  the  whole  twelve  tribes 
of  Israel  getting  ready  to  cross  the  Red  Sea 
by  the  noise  they  made,  Instead  of  one  dear, 
sweet  little  Mother,  with  curly  brown  hair, 
almost  smothered  In  raincoats  and  veils, 
starting  for  a  lonely  trip  down  the  mountain. 
Finally  she  got  off  while  we  children  wildly 
waved  until  she  was  whisked  around  the  cor- 


ner;  then  we  settled  down  to  play,  and  of 
course  we  fully  meant  to  be  as  angelic  as  we 
had  promised. 

In  about  half  an  hour,  Aunt  Margaret, 
who  had  planned  to  go  with  mother,  col- 
lected four  coolies,  and  again  there  was 
scolding  and  scrambling  among  the  coolies 
and  away  she  went. 

We  children  had  a  fine  time  playing  some 
of  our  very  nicest  games,  though  inside  we 
were  so  excited  we  could  hardly  wait,  and 
the  hands  of  the  clock  did  not  seem  to  move 
an  inch.  I  really  think  it  was  the  longest 
day  of  my  whole  life. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  our  Jimmy  boy, 
who  is  a  very  adventurous  (doesn't  that 
sound  grown  up ! )  boy,  climbed  on  the  rail- 
ing of  the  piazza  when  no  one  was  looking, 
to  catch  rain  drops. 

Now  the  porch  was  very  high,  and  his 
foot  slipped  and  he  fell  and  hit  his  head 
against  a  stone,  and  lay  quite  still  and  did 
not  move  or  speak.  It  was  simply  awful, 
but  one  of  our  neighbors  ran  and  picked  him 
up  and  carried  him  to  the  house;  then  they 
sent  for  a  doctor,  who  came  straight  off,  and 
there  was  a  great  deal  of  running  back  and 
forth  and  all  the  grown  people  looked  very 
sober.  In  a  little  while  they  took  him  away 
to  the  hospital,  and  Billy  and  I  just  felt  ter- 
ribly, for  we  did  not  know  how  much  he 
was  hurt — and  if  he  was  going  to  die — and 
our  Mother  away.  You  know  when  Mother's 
away  one  feels  as  if  one  couldn't  be  sure  of 


10 


anything,  and  as  If  every  place  was  empty. 
So  Billy  and  I  just  clung  to  each  other  and 
cried;  of  course  little  Gwennie  was  too  little 
to  realize  anything.  It  seemed  as  If  the 
night  got  twice  as  dark  as  usual,  and  at  every 
noise  outside  we  would  start  and  think  they 
were  coming;  we  listened  so  hard  our  ears 
seemed  to  get  sharper  and  we  could  hear 
quite  plainly  sounds  way  up  the  valley. 

In  the  meantime  my  mother  had  gotten  to 
the  river  without  anything  w^orse  than  a 
dreadful  wetting,  but  she  was  so  happy  at 
the  thought  of  seeing  Auntie  Jeanle  she 
never  noticed  that.  She  went  down  on  the 
Bund  to  watch  the  steamer  come  In,  and  way 
off  on  the  deck  she  recognized  Auntie  Jeanle 
waving  wild  signals,  and  everybody  was  so 
interested  and  excited  they  waved  too, 
though  of  course  they  did  not  know  Mother 
at  all.  Mother  said  she  fairly  wanted  to 
pull  the  boat  in,  she  was  so  anxious  to  get 
hold  of  her. 

Finally  the  boat  came  in,  amidst  the 
screaming,  pushing,  jumping  and  yelling  of 
excited  Chinese  coolies.  My  Daddy  says 
calmness  and  repose  is  unknown  to  Chinese 
coolies  unless  you  really  want  them  to  work, 
— then  they  fall  to  sleep  anywhere.  Mother 
and  Auntie  Jeanle  came  together  in  a  series 
of  hugs  and  kisses,  and  a  few  tears,  though 
why  they  should  cry  at  such  a  joyful  occa- 
sion passes  me.  Aunt  Margaret  stood  be- 
hind and  waited  her  turn  and  it  all  began 
again.      Every  one  talked  at  once,   asking 


II 


questions  and  answering  them  without  stop- 
ping. My  mother  told  me  about  it  after- 
wards; she  tells  things  so  funnily  and  so 
clearly  you  just  feel  as  if  you  had  been  there; 
somebody  said  she  was  "a  word  artist,"  and 
I  guess  they  meant  she  makes  things  so  plain 
it  is  like  a  picture. 

It  took  a  long  time,  as  you  can  imagine 
after  all  I  have  told  you  about  China,  to  get 
started  back  up  the  mountains.  They  had 
to  get  coolies  for  all  Aunt  Jeanie's  luggage, 
for  everything  is  carried  up  on  the  backs  of 
men, — ^yes,  trunks,  too,  and  I  can  just  see 
you  open  your  eyes  at  that,  way  off  in  Amer- 
ica. 

The  night  began  to  fall  (doesn't  that 
sound  like  a  real  book?)  before  they  got 
more  than  half  way,  but  they  went  right  on. 
When  they  got  within  half  an  hour  or  so  of 
home,  a  coolie  stopped  my  mother's  chair 
and  asked  if  she  was  Er  Si  Mu.  She  said 
"yes"  and  they  handed  her  two  telegrams, 
one  to  my  Daddy,  who  was  on  business  in 
Shanghai,  and  one  to  Uncle  Sam,  who  is  a 
Doctor  and  was  at  home  in  the  Mission  Sta- 
tion. The  telegram  said  that  Jimmy  was 
badly  hurt  and  to  come.  The  coolies  had 
been  told  very  clearly  and  sharply  not  to 
stop  anywhere,  and  not  to  show  the  telegram 
to  Er  Si  Mu;  that  is  how  they  obeyed. 

My  mother  knew  in  a  minute  that  they 
never  would  have  sent  for  Uncle  Sam,  who 
was  ten-days'  journey  away,  unless  some- 
thing dreadful  had  happened.      If  you  have 


12 


ever  met  my  mother  for  one  minute  you 
could  see  in  her  deep,  soft,  brown  eyes  the 
great  love  she  has  for  us  children. 

I  guess  it  was  almost  like  a  knife  in  her 
heart.  She  just  turned  to  her  coolies  stand- 
ing around  her  with  their  queer  torches  and 
she  made  them  run — over  sticks  and  stones 
and  gullies  they  stumbled  in  the  darkness, 
up  and  down  steps.  She  must  have  been 
nearly  shaken  to  bits,  as  one  or  another 
would  slip  and  nearly  fall,  but  she  urged  and 
pleaded  with  them  to  go  faster,  in  a  very 
shaky  voice. 

When  she  reached  the  house  she  found  It 
dark,  for  we  were  at  Aunt  Margaret's,  and 
again  she  turned  and  hurried  away  to  the 
hospital. 

Soon  Auntie  Jeanie  came;  how  different  it 
was  from  what  we  had  planned!  We  just 
hugged  and  kissed  her  hard  I  can  tell  you, 
it  was  next  best  to  having  Mother;  and  to 
know  she  was  with  our  Jimmy  boy  made  ev- 
erything look  brighter  and  more  solid,  some- 
how. Auntie  Jeanie  and  we  just  clung  to  each 
other  until  we  fell  asleep  tired  out  with  mis- 
ery and  gladness. 

When  mother  arrived  at  the  hospital,  they 
told  her  Jimmy  was  coming  out  of  the  ether 
nicely,  and  that  he  must  be  kept  from  all 
exciting  things;  she  flew  right  to  him  and 
took  the  nurse's  place,  but  very  quietly  and 
calmly.  When  he  slowly  opened  his  eyes 
there  was  our  blessed  mother  giving  him  a 
glass   of  water   as   if  she   had   never  been 

13 


away;  that  funny  boy  wanted  to  know  why 
she  had  her  clothes  on  in  the  middle  of  the 
night. 

The  first  few  days  were  the  dangerous 
ones.  You  see  they  had  taken  a  piece  of 
bone  right  out  of  his  head,  and  she  staid 
right  close  beside  him  for  three  or  four 
days  without  ever  taking  off  her  clothes,  for 
fear  some  sudden  noise  or  jar  might  startle 
him ;  when  the  danger  was  all  over  she  look- 
ed down  at  her  feet  and  saw  she  still  had  on 
her  rubbers  she  had  put  on  that  happy  rainy 
morning  to  go  down  the  mountain.  Now 
that  is  just  like  my  mother.  Do  you  sup- 
pose all  mothers  are  like  that? 


|U^ 


CHAPTER    II 


My  Mother's  Day 

E  are  all  very  busy  this  morning 
thinking  very  hard,  for  we  are 
trying  to  write  compositions. 
Do  you  remember  when  you 
were  little  boys  and  girls  in  school;  how  your 
heart  used  to  sink  on  the  mornings  your 
teacher  would  say  in  the  tone  she  uses  when 
she  thinks  she  is  giving  you  a  great  treat, 
''Now,  children,  we  will  write  compositions 
today,  and  you  can  choose  your  own  sub- 
jects"? 

Billy  is  leaning  away  over  his  desk,  writ- 
ing away  for  dear  life, — that  boy  has  really 
too  many  ideas  1  I  know  he's  giving  a  long 
account  of  how  the  trolleys  run  in  San 
Francisco,  or  what  kind  of  food  cows  eat  in 
the  winter  and  how  they  chew.  I  wonder 
why  boys  always  love  such  stupid  things? 

It's  always  dreadfully  hard  for  me  be- 
cause I  think  of  so  many  different  subjects 
and  they  all  seem  like  the  little  blind  paths  in 
the  mountains  that  start  out  so  beautifully 
and  lead  to  nowhere. 

Oh!  now  I  have  a  splendid  idea,  I  just 
guess    I'll  tell  you  about  one  of  my  mother's 

15 


days,  for  I  think  she  does  more  in  one  day 
than  most  people  do  in  a  week.  I  am  going 
to  describe  last  Saturday  for  I  was  with  her 
a  great  deal  that  day. 

At  half-past  six  the  scramble  began.  It 
seemed  like  getting  up  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  it  was  so  cold  and  dark.  When  there 
are  two  grown-up  people  and  four  children 
to  dress  in  half  an  hour  it  takes  some  en- 
gineering, as  Daddy  says.  Mother  often 
wishes  people  didn't  have  so  many  feet;  for 
with  five  people  it  means  ten  stockings  and 
ten  shoes,  and  that's  just  a  starter;  when 
your  rooms  are  small,  things  seem  to  get 
even  more  thoroughly  lost.  You  know  how 
it  is  a  sleeping-car  berth,  don't  you? 
Billy  and  I  both  felt  so  very  happy  we  could 
not  help  singing  a  duet,  something  like  an 
oratorio,  Daddy  called  it — I  don't  know 
what  that  is — but  I  sang,  "Mr.  Duck  went 
to  walk  with  Mr.  Turkey,"  very  high,  and 
then  Billie  sang,  "Mr.  Duck  went  to  walk 
with  Mr.  Turkey,"  very  low,  but  at  the  top 
of  his  lungs  and  all  the  while  he  was  pulling 
on  his  stockings.  People  don't  always  like 
our  singing  the  way  I  wish  they  would;  I 
know  once  at  home  in  America  a  cousin  came 
to  see  us,  and  we  children  were  upstairs 
singing;  she  turned  to  my  aunt  and  said, 
"Mary,  what  is  that  awful  noise?"  Aunt 
Polly  answered,  "Oh,  that's  nothing,  it's 
only  Billy  and  Nancy  singing,  'Jesus  Loves 
Me,'  in  Chinese";  we  have  been  teased  about 
it  ever  since  I 

i6 


To  go  back  to  our  stockings,  Auntie  Jeanie 
complained  the  din  was  dreadful,  but 
Mother  and  the  amah  went  calmly  on  but- 
toning up  dresses,  brushing  hair,  and  seeing 
that  we  cleaned  our  teeth  properly,  as 
though  it  had  been  ''The  silence  of  the 
tomb."  I  don't  know  if  Auntie  Jeanie  will 
let  that  stand,  she  doesn't  seem  to  like  such 
expressions,  she  says  they  spoil  my  style, 
whatever  that  may  mean, — if  I  make  her 
laugh  she  will  leave  it. 

Through  all  the  noise  my  mother  was  just 
as  sweet  and  not  one  bit  cross,  though  I 
know  she  had  been  awake  since  five  with 
Gwennie,  and  up  with  Jimmy  in  the  night  be- 
cause he  had  an  earache. 

At  a  little  after  seven  we  were  all  dressed 
and  sitting  at  breakfast;  Mother  was  pour- 
ing out  her  coffee — she  doesn't  take  much 
else  for  breakfast — when  the  table  boy  came 
in  and  said,  "There's  a  poor  woman  outside 
who  wants  to  speak  to  Er  Si  Mu."  So 
Mother  hurried  out;  when  she  came  back  in 
about  ten  minutes,  she  did  not  seem  to  notice 
her  coffee  was  cold,  and  drank  it  quickly  as 
though  her  mind  was  away  off.  I  saw  a  lit- 
tle tear  trickling  down  her  cheek,  which  she 
brushed  quickly  away  with  her  hand.  She 
told  us  this  poor  woman  with  a  baby  in  her 
arms  was  nearly  frozen  and  perhaps  starv- 
ing: this  is  famine  year  for  the  Chinese,  be- 
cause the  rain  spoiled  their  harvest.  Many 
of  the  poorer  people  who  are  always  hungry 
even  in  good  years,  are  starving  now. 

17 


We  found  afterwards  my  mother  had 
given  the  woman  one  of  her  own  padded 
garments.  The  Chinese  women  all  love  my 
mother  dearly,  I  think  It's  because  she  says 
In  her  heart,  "What  If  I  was  this  poor,  sad 
woman,  and  my  little  Gwennle  was  this  poor 
starved  little  baby?"  So  she  treats  them 
just  as  she  would  like  to  be  treated  herself. 

When  she  talks  to  them  you  can  see  the 
love  shining  out  of  her  face;  the  tears  In 
her  eyes  tell  them  she  Is  sorry  for  their 
troubles,  and  of  course  they  love  her  from 
deep  down  In  their  hearts.  No  one  In  this 
wide  world  has  ever  been  so  kind  to  them  be- 
fore. 

After  breakfast  we  had  prayers  and  we  all 
like  that  'cause  we  can  sing  a  hymn  very  loud 
indeed.  Somehow  I  feel  better  after  singing 
loud.  It  was  Jimmy's  turn  to  choose  and 
he  wanted,  "Baa,  Baa,  Black  Sheep,"  and 
couldn't  understand  why  we  laughed. 

Then  came  Gwennle's  bath,  and  that's  such 
fun.  She  Is  too  cunning  for  words,  and 
laughs  and  crows  and  kicks  her  little  pink 
toes.  I  truly  believe  my  mother  loves  that 
bath  the  best  of  the  whole  day  for  she  can 
take  Gwennle's  dear  little  soft  body  in  her 
arms  and  hug  and  cuddle  it  to  her  heart's 
content.  She  wouldn't  believe  it,  but  she 
always  reminds  me  of  the  picture  of  Baby 
Jesus  and  His  Mother  that  hangs  over 
them ;  she  has  the  same  sort  of  holy  look  on 
her  face. 

i8 


When  she  was  in  the  midst  of  dressing 
Gwennie,  funny  old  Loa  Pong,  the  gate- 
keeper, came  in,  and  making  his  deep  bow,  he 
handed  mother  a  big  red  card  and  said  the 
Tai  Tai  (official  lady)  was  at  the  gate. 
Mother  gave  me  Gwennie  and  hurried  into 
her  room  to  put  on  her  best  Chinese  coat, 
and  give  "a  lick  and  a  promise  to  her  hair." 
The  Chinese  do  not  like  curly  hair,  and 
asked  Mother  once  why  she  didn't  use  a 
comb.  (Auntie  Jeanie  says  "a  lick  and  a 
promise"  is  not  very  elegant,  but  I  can  leave 
it  if  I  want  to.) 

Then  Loa  Pong,  the  gate-keeper,  in  his 
dirty,  ragged  padded  coat  and  his  little 
moth-eaten  pig  tail,  about  as  thick  as  my  lit- 
tlest finger,  with  very  deep  bows,  showed  the 
Tai  Tai  in,  and  mother,  with  her  best  Chi- 
nese manners,  bowed  and  smiled  and  shook 
her  own  hands  telling  the  Tai  Tai  she  was 
doing  her  too  much  honor. 

While  I,  with  Gwennie  half  dressed  in  my 
arms,  and  the  bath  tub  at  my  feet,  couldn't 
help  laughing  behind  her  dear  little  back. 
You  see  we  had  to  bathe  Gwennie  in  the  par- 
lor because  that  stove  makes  the  warmest 
fire.  It  all  looked  funny  though,  the  stately 
bows  and  polite  remarks  and  lovely  coats  of 
the  ladies,  and  dirty,  mussy  Loa  Pong  with 
such  fine  manners  and  such  shabby  clothes, 
and  the  bath  tub  and  everything.  In  America 
we  don't  expect  callers  at  nine  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  but  in  China  one  never  knows 
when  the  Tai  Tais  will  come.      Mother  says 

19 


It's  a  great  comfort  to  her  to  remember  that 
the  ladies  don't  know  that  as  a  usual  thing 
foreigners  don't  take  baths  In  their  draw- 
ing-rooms. 

Well,  of  course  the  ladies  had  to  be  given 
tea  and  sweet  meats  and  smoke  their  little 
pipes;  they  dropped  the  ashes  on  the  floor 
and  made  holes  in  the  best  rug,  too.  Mother 
explained  to  me  afterwards  that  as  they 
had  no  rugs  on  their  own  stone  or  mud  floors 
they  couldn't  realize  the  harm  they  did — I 
think  they  should,  though.  Then  they 
wanted  to  see  the  house  because  we  had  just 
moved  into  a  new  apartment  in  the  boys' 
school.  They  went  into  all  our  bedrooms, 
with  Mother  always  very  patient  and  most 
polite  following  after,  and  they  asked  lots  of 
foolish  questions,  and  pulled  out  all  the  bu- 
reau drawers  and  wanted  to  wind  the  bed- 
room clock. 

We  thought  they  would  never  go,  but  at 
last  they  were  satisfied  that  we  had  not  used 
ground-up  Chinese  bones  for  tooth  powder, 
and  that  we  had  no  real  skeletons  in  our 
closet  as  they  had  heard,  and  off  they  went. 
That  is  really  too  quick  a  way  of  telling 
how  they  left,  for  It  took  nearly  half  an  hour 
for  them  to  say  their  last  pretty  speeches  and 
make  their  last  good-by  bows;  in  the  end 
they  toddled  off,  each  one  held  up  by  an 
amah  because  their  feet  were  so  small. 

By  the  time  the  sedan  chairs  had  jogged 
round  the  corner,  Mother  had  whisked  off 
her  good  coat,  seen  that  the  amah  had  but- 


20 


toned  Gwennie's  dress  in  the  back  and  not 
down  the  front,  and  gone  to  the  store  room 
to  give  out  the  food  and  oil  for  the  day. 
The  Chinese   servants  steal  things  so  very 
dreadfully  everything  has  to  be  locked  up 
and  then  given  out  eachmorning.      Mother  has 
to  even  watch  them  with  her  own  eyes  fill 
the   lamps,   or   they  would  take   the   kero- 
sene.     She  also  had  to  fix  Gwennie's  milk 
and   then   help   the   men   who   brought   the 
wood  for  the  winter  weigh  it,  for  fear  they 
would  not  bring  enough,  or  would  steal  it,  or 
soak  it  in  water  to  make  it  weigh    more. 
Then  the  women  whom  she  is  teaching  to 
read  began  to  come,  and  she  sat  with  them 
for  an  hour.   It  is  pretty  hard  work,  I  guess, 
for  they  are  old  and  stupid;  English  is  hard 
enough,  I  think,  but  it  is  knitting  work  com- 
pared to  ditch  digging  to  Chinese,  Daddy 
says.      Mother  never  gets  cross  though,  and 
she  went  over  and  over  the  same  verse  of 
the  hymn  so  they  could  learn  it,  and  she  ex- 
plained it  to  them  in  easy  words,  and  when 
they  got  a  little  bit  of  an  idea  what  it  all 
meant  she  was  so  happy.     All  the  time  they 
had  one   or  two  babies   and  little  children 
with  them  who  cried  or  wanted  something 
just  when  she  tried  to  make  things  plain. 
I  guess  she  must  get  cross  inside,  but  she 
didn't  show  it  to  them,  and  they  each  one 
told  her  some  hard  trouble  they  were  having 
and  she  comforted  them  so  sweetly. 

After    she     finished    with    the     women, 
she   decided  the   parlor  stove   pipe   needed 


21 


cleaning,  as  the  fire  would  not  burn,  and  she 
called  the  table  boy  and  they  went  at  it  to- 
gether, he  was  too  stupid  to  do  it  alone.  I 
ran  in  there  after  my  doll  and  there  was 
my  mother  with  soot  on  her  nose,  cheeks  and 
hands  doing  most  of  the  work  herself,  while 
the  boy  watched  her. 

She  told  me  to  run  and  get  washed  up  be- 
cause as  a  great  treat  she  was  going  to  take 
me  over  to  Li  Sao  Tze  to  dinner,  and  she 
would  be  ready  in  a  twinkling.  She  always 
says  things  in  such  a  funny  way  even  when 
she  is  busy,  it  makes  one  laugh. 

While  we  were  getting  ready,  there  was  a 
great  smash  in  the  living  room,  and  we  rush- 
ed in  to  find  that  the  boy  in  his  clumsy  way 
had  smashed  the  best  lamp  to  smithereens — 
that  word  is  not  in  the  dictionary  but  Mother 
used  it  so  it  must  be  all  right.  It  w^as 
mother's  wedding  present,  and,  as  mother 
says,  '*It  gave  an  air  to  the  whole  station,'' 
so  she  reproved  the  boy,  as  he  deserved. 

At  last  we  were  ready,  and  off  we  started 
in  great  glee,  for  Mother  and  I  do  not  very 
often  get  away  together,  she  doesn't  think 
too  much  Chinese  food  good  for  me.  Li 
Sao  Tze  is  one  of  the  inquirers,  that  means 
she  is  asking  about  Christianity;  she  is  very 
poor  and  ignorant  and  often  comes  to  wash 
windows  or  scrub  floors.  Mother  didn't  like 
very  well  to  go,  knowing  how  hard  a  life  she 
had,  but  the  ladies  here  helped  her  out  a 
lot,  and  she  was  so  grateful,  my  mother  saw 


22 


it  would  hurt  her  pride  if  we  did  not  accept, 
so  she  decided  we  must. 

We  walked  along  the  dirty  crooked  streets 
so  different  from  our  blessed  clean  America ; 
all  the  savage  dogs  and  horrid  black  pigs 
seemed  to  be  out  for  an  airing,  too,  and  were 
nosing  around  most  uncomfortably. 

As  we  passed  along  a  woman  here  and 
there  would  say  how  do  you  do  to  mother, 
and  ask  her  where  she  was  going,  which  is 
very  polite  in  China.  Soon  the  crowd  began 
to  follow  us,  for  they  are  not  very  well  used 
to  seeing  us  foreigners  on  that  side  of  town. 
At  last  we  came  to  Li  Sao  Tze's  little  hut. 
I  can't  very  well  tell  you  how  poor  it  was, 
'cause  I  never  saw  anything  quite  like  it  at 
home.  It  was  built  of  straw  and  was  just 
about  as  high  as  a  man.  It  was  spotlessly 
clean,  for  she  had  scrubbed  it  well,  and  the 
only  furniture  was  the  table  and  stools  we 
sat  on;  and  the  bedding  rolled  up  in  a  cor- 
ner. The  cooking  was  done  at  her  neigh- 
bor's. When  the  three  of  us  and  a  neigh- 
bor were  in  the  room  it  was  full.  There  was 
a  crowd  of  twenty  curious  people  crowded 
around  the  door  staring  hard  at  us,  and 
as  there  was  no  window,  the  air  was  very 
bad.  My  Mother  began  to  talk  to  the 
crowd  at  once  about  "the  way,"  for  she  never 
misses  a  chance  to  tell  those  miserable,  help- 
less people  about  some  one  who  loves  them, 
and  will  care  for  them;  they  listened  for 
awhile  and  then  quietly  went  away.  A  crowd 
is  always  exciting  in  China   for  one  never 

23 


knows  whether  they  will  stay  good  natured 
or  begin  to  throw  stones,  and  little  girls  like 
me  get  a  little  scared  sometimes,  but  people 
all  seem  to  like  and  understand  my  mother 
so  well  I  am  not  afraid  with  her.  Well,  as 
you  can  see,  it  was  a  pretty  poor  place,  but 
as  mother  said,  "Li  Sao  Tze's  manners 
would  have  graced  a  duchess."  She  served 
us  as  though  it  was  the  finest  Yamen  feast 
instead  of  the  coarse  rice  and  vegetables  she 
could  buy,  and  we  had  just  a  happy  time.  I 
simply  love  to  eat  with  chop  sticks,  and  talk 
Chinese,  and  I  was  very  sorry  when  Mother 
said  we  must  leave.  Li  Sao  Tze  walked  a 
little  way  with  us  begging  us  to  come  again, 
and  she  looked  at  my  mother  as  if  she  was 
her  only  friend,  just  the  way  a  loving  dog 
looks  at  his  master. 

We  had  come  to  our  own  street  when  a 
woman  Mother  knew  came  up  to  Mother  and 
said,  "Oh,  Er  Si  Mu,  there  is  a  poor  little 
baby  out  on  the  mountain,  the  people  put  it 
there  yesterday,  and  it  has  been  crying  all 
night."  Just  think  of  that  in  the  middle  of 
winter;  I  couldn't  help  thinking  what  if  it 
had  been  Gwennie? 

Mother  told  me  to  go  home,  as  we  were 
so  near,  and  off  she  started,  almost  running. 
The  woman  went  with  her  and  there,  out 
beside  a  big  rock  on  the  mountain,  she  found 
the  littlest  kind  of  a  baby.  She  had  just  one 
dirty  garment  wrapped  around  her,  and  she 
was,  oh,  so  dirty  and  thin,  and  blue  with  the 
cold.      Mother  did  not  wait  a  minute  but 

24 


snatched  her  up  in  her  arms  and  hugged  her 
dose  to  make  her  warm.  Two  or  three 
women  followed  her,  and  they  were  sur- 
prised to  see  her  so  tender  to  a  little  strange 
baby;  they  kept  whispering,  "By  the  way 
she  treats  It,  it  might  be  her  own." 

I  was  standing  by  the  door  when  she  came 
in,  and  heard  her  ask  the  amah  to  bring  a 
hot  bath  and  the  table  boy  to  build  a  great 
fire.  She  would  not  let  us  children  in  the 
room  until  she  had  bathed  the  baby  and 
burned  the  old  garment,  for  fear  we  might 
catch  something.  We  peeked  in  the  door, 
though,  and  as  she  washed  the  poor  little 
shivering  thing,  the  tears  ran  down  her  face, 
and  she  kept  saying,  "Oh,  you  poor  little 
baby,  you  poor  little  baby!"  Mother  spent 
all  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  trying  to  bring 
the  frozen  baby  back  to  life,  and  by  supper 
time  I  could  see  she  was  dreadfully  tired. 
We  all  felt  pretty  solemn  over  our  tea,  for 
we  were  so  sorry  for  the  baby  whose  father 
and  mother  did  not  want  her.  Mother  put 
us  to  bed  early  and  talked  to  us  so  sweetly 
about  the  baby  and  how  kind  we  must  be  to 
her. 

She  was  so  tired  at  station  meeting  that 
evening  she  fell  right  asleep  in  a  talk  about 
some  old  salary  or  other;  they  all  laughed 
about  it  the  next  morning,  but  I  don't  won- 
der she  did,  do  you? 

Late  that  night — after  she  had  seen  her 
own  little  children  were  all  right,  she  went 
to  the  little  motherless  baby,  making  it  warm 

25 


and  "comfy"  and  cuddled  it,  because  it  never 
had  been  cuddled  before. 

The  baby  died  yesterday  and  we  children 
cried  very  hard,  it  all  seemed  so  sad,  and  we 
wanted  her  as  a  playmate.  I  think  it  is  a 
very  beautiful  thing  to  have  a  mother  who 
is  a  mother  to  all  little  forlorn  babies,  be- 
cause she  loves  her  own  babies  so  dearly. 


v^s 


CHAPTER    III 


The  Village  on  the  Willo^v 
Pattern  Plate 


|Y  mother  has  been  away  from  us 
children  three  whole  days  and  It 
has  seemed  very  funny  and,  of 
course,  a  little  exciting.  She  is 
back  now  though,  and  how  we  did  kiss  and 
hug  her;  we  just  jumped  up  and  down  for 
sheer  joy  and  we  talked  so  fast  we  couldn't 
hear  ourselves  think.  Very  soon  mother 
had  to  say,  "All  good  children  should  be  in 
bed,"  but  it  was  a  pretty  long  time  before 
we  cuddled  down  and  she  blew  out  the  can- 
dle ;  with  several  last  kisses  all  around. 

The  next  day  I  heard  her  tell  the  grown 
people  all  about  her  trip,  so  I  am  going  to 
tell  you  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember;  it 
won't  be  as  good,  for  mother  tells  things 
better  than  any  one  else  in  the  world. 

In  the  first  place, — not,  once  upon  a  time, 
— now  is  Chinese  New  Year.  In  China 
that  means  Christmas,  birthdays.  New 
Year's,  Decoration  Day  and  Fourth  of  July 
all  rolled  into  one.      Sometimes  they  cele- 


brate  for  nearly  three  weeks;  the  mission- 
aries get  a  little  bit  tired  of  it,  for  all  regular 
work  has  to  stop;  but,  as  mother  remarked, 
"Nothing  can  dampen  the  Chinaman's 
ardor;  he  even  wears  his  mourning  with  a 
difference." 

This  year,  as  usual,  every  one  was  very 
much  excited,  exactly  the  way  we  children 
were  on  Christmas  Eve.  I  could  hear  the 
beggars  not  sneaking  along  as  they  gen- 
erally do  with  their  whining  voices  asking 
for  cash;  but  instead,  they  stood  quite  boldly 
at  the  door,  chanting  out  clearly  a  poem 
like  this — my  mother  wrote  it  in  English  for 
us, — 

One  voice   sings — "May  pearls  enter  your 

front  gate," 
And  a  deeper  voice  responds,  "Good." 
First  voice — "May   rubies   enter   the    back 

gate." 
Second  voice — "Good." 
First  voice — "May  rubies  and  pearls  enter 
your  gates, — " 
"Good." 
"It  is  well  asked." 

"Good." 
"It  will  be  well  accomplished." 

"Good." 
"If  you  give  twenty  biscuits  you  will  still 
have  more." 
"Good." 

"At  one  place  they  sent  them  away  and 
they  quickly  changed  their  tone — 

28 


"May  a  coffin  enter  your  front  gate/* 

"Good." 
"May  nothing  but  hay  enter  your  back 
gate." 
"Good." 
"May   only   coffins   and   hay   enter  your 
back  gates." 
"Good." 

Then  they  went  away,  saying  dreadful 
things  we  children  couldn't  understand.  My 
mother  said  she  was  glad  she  could  not. 

The  next  morning  we  were  eating  break- 
fast when  the  callers  began, to  come.  They 
were  the  servants  looking  very  strange  and 
uncomfortable,  all  dressed  up  In  their  best. 
I  should  like  to  say  "glad  rags,"  though  I 
suppose  a  little  girl  writing  a  story  should 
be  careful.  The  table  boy's  clothes  really 
were  that,  for  he  was  a  famine-sufferer  and 
Daddy  took  him  In,  "to  save  his  family,  not 
as  a  table  ornament,"  as  he  laughingly  told 
some  one  who  spoke  about  his  rough  man- 
ners and  untidy  ways.  The  servants  came 
to  thank  Daddy  and  Mother  for  their  "over- 
whelmingly generous"  New  Year's  gift — 
that's  the  Chinese  way  of  saying  thank  you. 
They  had  each  received  twenty-five  cents! 

Soon  the  teachers  came  in  silks  and  they 
were  just  terribly  polite,  with  their  deep 
bows,  and  so  stiff  about  drinking  the  tea ;  be- 
ing careful  to  do  it  exactly  as  their  fathers 
and  grandfathers  did  unto  the  third  and 
fourth  generation,  as  we  learned  in  the  com- 

29 


mandments;  only  their  tea  drinking  goes 
back  thousands  of  years — I  can  hardly  imag- 
ine such  a  thing. 

After  them  came  the  school  girls,  that 
was  more  fun  for  us  children,  though  they 
had  on  their  company  manners,  too; 
however,  I  succeeded  in  making  my  best 
friend  giggle  nervously.  They  were  almost 
as  gay  as  Uncle  Bois's  flower  garden,  with 
their  new  coats  and  gay  hats  and  butterfly 
shoes.  They  had  hardly  gone  before  the 
women  of  the  church  came  shyly  in.  The 
rich  ladies  don't  call  for  six  days.  Billy 
whispered  to  me,  **They  don't  do  a  thing 
to  sweetmeats,  do  they?"  Poor  old  hungry 
things,  they  ate  all  they  could,  and  more  than 
you  or  I  possibly  could,  and  then  put  the  rest 
in  handkerchiefs,  which  they  brought  in  or- 
der to  carry  home  what  they  didn't  eat.  It 
took  them  a  good  while  to  say  good-by, 
these  women  always  cling  to  my  mother  as 
though  they  did  not  want  to  leave  their  best 
friend. 

In  the  afternoon  we  all  went  over  to  the 
girls'  school,  even  busy  Mother,  and  played 
games.  It  is  such  fun  to  teach  the  girls  our 
nice  American  games !  They  love  them  and 
are  very  bright  about  learning  hide-and- 
seek,  tag,  hunt  the  thimble  and  others.  You 
would  be  surprised  to  hear  how  they  laugh 
and  how  quickly  those  with  bound  feet  can 
get  over  the  ground. 

All  that  day  Father  and  Mother  were 
planning  her  trip  to  the  country.   It  had  taken 

.30 


weeks  of  coaxing  from  Daddy  to  get  her  to 
consent  to  leave  us  children  for  three  whole 
days,  and  I  hardly  believe  they  would  ever 
have  gotten  her  off  but  her  love  for  the  Chi- 
nese women  drew  her.  The  village  is  just 
one  of  those  country  places  Father  visits  on 
his  trips,  but  only  one  foreign  lady  had  ever 
been  there.  A  good  many  of  the  men  be- 
lieve in  "the  doctrine,"  but  the  wives  don't 
like  it  and  treat  their  Christian  husbands 
badly. 

I  suppose  you  wonder  why  my  mother 
hated  to  leave  us  for  three  little  days.  In 
the  first  place,  Auntie  Jeanie  was  not  with 
us,  and  I  think  you  will  understand  when  I 
explain  the  other  reason.  I  have  never  writ- 
ten anything  about  my  little  brother  Harry, 
who  went  to  be  with  Jesus  when  I  was  a  tiny 
baby — Mother  tells  us  about  his  wee  darling 
ways,  and  how  he  was  always  so  good  and 
gentle  that  everybody  loved  him.  He  was 
just  learning  to  talk  and  had  such  pretty 
curly  hair,  like  Mother's,  and  a  sweet  smile 
with  dimples.  I  think  that  when  he  left  us 
something  in  my  Mother's  heart  died  too, 
and  that  she  has  never  been  quite  as  happy 
since;  when  she  talks  of  him  there  is  such  a 
longing  look  in  her  eyes.  She  told  me  once 
she  never  knew  how  our  Father  in  Heaven 
loves  his  children,  until  she  found  how  deep 
down  into  her  whole  heart,  like  the  clinging 
roots  of  a  flower,  her  love  for  Harry  went. 
Harry  was  so  brave  and  patient  when  he  was 
ill,  doing  exactly  as  he  was  told,   and  my 


mother  used  to  pray  that  she  would  take  the 
trouble  from  her  loving  Father,  as  patiently 
as  Harry  took  the  medicine  and  treatment 
from  his  parents'  hands.  Chinese  names 
have  some  beautiful  meanings;  Hwai  Yuan, 
where  we  live,  means,  "the  place  that  those 
who  are  far  away  love,"  and  x\n  Hul,  our 
Province,  means,  "comfort."  I  always  love 
to  think  that  when  Harry  left  us.  Mother 
held  me  up  in  her  arms  and  said,  "This  is  my 
little  An  Hui."  Whenever  Mother  leaves 
us  I  am  sure  she  thinks  of  Harry  and  how 
something  might  happen  to  us  while  she  is 
away,  for  in  China  many  dreadful  things 
can  happen  very  quickly. 

It  seems  to  me  it  has  taken  me  almost 
forever  to  begin  to  tell  about  their  trip,  but 
now  I  am  really  off.  On  that  eventful  day 
— how  well  that  sounds — the  chairmen  turn- 
ed up  bright  and  early.  In  China  if  we  ex- 
pect the  coolies  early,  they  come  late ;  if  you 
expect  them  late,  they  come  early!  I  think 
it  makes  life  more  exciting  not  to  have  things 
go  as  they  should. 

The  party  was  made  up  mostly  of  ladles; 
there  was  Aunt  Agnes — she's  a  doctor;  Aunt 
Margaret — she's  a  nurse;  Ren  Ku  Niang — 
she's  a  Chinese  teacher;  and  my  mother — 
she's  just  a  mother;  all  In  sedan  chairs. 

Sometimes  you  must  wonder  how  I  have 
so  many  aunts  and  uncles  here  In  China,  but 
most  of  them  are  just  make-believe,  because 
our  real  aunts  and  uncles  are  so  far  away — 
Uncle    Sam,    Aunt    Margaret   and  Auntie 

32 


Jeanie  are  the  only  really  truly  uncle  and 
aunts. 

The  chairmen  started  off  with  the  usual 
grunt  and  grumble  walking  along  over  the 
deep  snow  which  lay  all  over  the  ground. 
It  was  pretty  cold  as  they  crept  along 
through  the  country,  and  they  passed  lots  of 
little  villages  with  their  thatched  roofs  and 
groves  of  willows  exactly  like  the  picture  on 
the  willow  pattern  plate. 

The  coolies  would  stop  at  each  of  these 
villages  to  rest  and  drink  bowls  of  hot  tea, 
and  the  people,  all  dressed  In  their  best  for 
New  Years,  would  crowd  around  the  chairs 
and  make  funny  remarks  about  the  strange 
foreigners.  For  some  peculiar  reason,  per- 
haps because  she  wore  glasses,  they  always 
thought  my  mother  was  very  old.  You 
know,  really,  my  mother  looks  very  young. 
''This  is  the  old  one,"  they  would  say,  "she 
must  be  eighty  or  ninety  years  old,"  and  one 
woman  told  her  she  knew  Daddy,  he  had 
ridden  through  there  on  his  bicycle  once,  and 
his  disposition  was  very  lively.  She  asked  If 
my  mother  was  his  mother.  It  may  be  be- 
cause that  is  the  biggest  compliment  a  Chi- 
nese can  give,  to  think  one  very  old.  At 
noon  Uncle  Ed  came  on  his  mule  to  meet 
them.  A  mule  is  not  a  romantic  animal  to 
put  in  my  story;  he  Is  no  prancing  steed  of 
chivalry,  such  as  my  fairy  books  tell  us 
about;  poor  old  Billy  Bryan,  no  one  would 
ever  think  of  calling  him  that!  Uncle  Ed 
did  not  ride  up  to  their  rescue  with  spear  in 

33 


rest;  but  my  mother  was  just  as  glad  to  see 
him  as  though  he  had;  for  you  see  she  could 
hand  over  the  management  of  the  quarreling 
Chinese  coolies  to  him,  and  that  was  a  great 
relief. 

The  snow  had  turned  to  slush  and  mud. 
Three  or  four  of  the  men  had  forgotten  to 
bring  extra  straw  sandals.  The  mud  caked 
in  the  old  ones,  and  they  grumbled  and  slip- 
ped and  said  they  would  not  carry  them  an- 
other step  without  more  shoes,  and  of  course 
way  out  In  the  country  was  no  place  to  buy 
shoes. 

Uncle  Ed  had  to  ride  from  one  to  another 
and  cheer  and  scold  them  on.  The  ladles 
ate  their  lunch  riding  along  so  as  not  to  stop 
at  all,  and  drank  hot  tea  from  thermos  bot- 
tles, which  seemed  strange  In  that  part  of 
old  China,  where  people  had  not  changed 
for  so  many  hundred  years. 

The  afternoon  came  on,  and  the  sun  be- 
gan to  set;  when  he,  their  best  friend,  disap- 
peared. It  grew  pitchy  black  and  bitterly  cold, 
but  at  last  they  heard  a  wild  barking  of 
dogs  and  saw  some  lights  ahead,  and  heard 
friendly  voices,  so  they  knew  that  they  had 
reached  their  village.  The  outside  of  the 
chapel  was  quite  dark,  but  the  Inside  was 
brightly  lighted,  and  they  were  delighted  to 
hobble  In,  for  they  were  so  stiff  with  the  cold 
and  long  ride  they  could  hardly  stand.  They 
soon  had  a  table  set  with  bread  and  butter 
and  hot  tea;  it  was  set  on  a  table  which  was 
used  for  a  pulpit  the  next  day.      If  ever  you 

34 


come  to  China  you  will  be  surprised  how 
many  uses  one  article  of  furniture  can 
have.  I  was  born  here,  so  I  am  never  sur- 
prised at  all. 

The  coolies  brought  in  the  bedding,  and 
Uncle  Ed  helped  the  ladies  to  put  up  their 
little  folding  beds,  and  my,  how  glad  they 
were  to  snuggle  under  the  warm  blankets 
and  go  to  sleep. 

Before  they  were  up  in  the  morning  the 
people  were  thumping  at  the  door,  and  try- 
ing to  peep  through  the  cracks,  so  that  they 
had  to  hurry  their  dressing,  and  finally  they 
were  led  by  their  kind  host,  with  half  the 
village  following,  to  his  house  for  break- 
fast. 

Mother  said  it  was  a  strange  meal  to  a 
foreigner,  but  Interesting,  because  everything 
they  gave  them  came  right  from  the  farm. 
The  brothers  of  the  fat  slices  of  pork  they 
ate,  were  nosing  about  the  door;  at  the 
same  time,  her  elbow  hit  the  basket  from 
which  the  boiled  rice  had  been  taken; 
the  little  salt  fish  had  some  years  back 
been  caught  in  the  puddle  outside  the 
door,  and  the  turnips,  cabbage  and  garlic 
could  be  easily  traced  to  the  muddy  fields. 
The  kindness  and  politeness  of  their  cor- 
dial hosts  made  it  a  feast  to  be  long  remem- 
bered. Before  they  finished  the  little  chapel 
was  packed  and  people  were  fighting  to  get 
In.  The  mud  was  so  deep  between  the 
house  and  the  chapel  mother's  rubbers  came 
off  twenty  times,  and  at  last  an  old  lady  lent 

3S 


her  her  crooked  stick  and  another  clutched 
her  elbow  and  pulled  her  out  of  the  mud. 

There  were  so  many  women  present  Uncle 
Ed  gave  the  chapel  up  to  them  and  they  filled 
It.  They  were  all  so  eager  In  telling  each 
other  how  anxious  they  were  to  hear  all 
about  "the  Doctrine'*  the  ladles  could  hardly 
be  heard.  The  Chinese  women,  until  they 
have  been  taught,  have  no  Idea  how  to 
behave  in  a  foreigner's  church.  A  few 
weeks  ago  In  our  own  beautiful  church  In 
Hwal  Yuan,  Mother  and  Aunt  Margaret 
were  trying  to  keep  fifty  or  sixty  women 
quiet  through  the  service,  when,  just  before 
the  benediction,  an  old  lady  popped  up,  and 
shrieked  at  the  top  of  her  lungs  to  her  son 
who  was  away  In  the  other  side  of  the  church, 
"Come  on  home,  It's  time  for  dinner.  I'm 
going  now."  Mother  tried  to  pull  her 
down  by  the  coat  tails  when  she  saw  what 
was  going  to  happen,  but  of  course  it  was 
just  too  late.  You  can  see  If  this  happens 
in  the  city  church,  where  the  foreigners  have 
been  some  time,  how  lively  It  might  be  In  a 
green  country  chapel.  They  sang  hymns, 
and  by  that  means  made  the  women  listen, 
and  then  explained  what  the  hymns  meant. 
Reu  Ku  Niang  talked,  and  so  did  Mother, 
till  they  became  too  hoarse  and  tired  to  even 
croak;  then  they  told  them  Dr.  Agnes  would 
see  any  who  were  111,  In  the  corner  of  the 
chapel.  Mother  said  they  had  such  funny 
diseases.  One  woman  was  empty,  all  the 
time,  and  she  pointed  from  her  mouth  to  her 

36 


shoes;  another  woman  was  dry,  particularly 
in  the  throat,  and  lots  of  other  strange 
things. 

Finally,  they  were  told  they  must  go 
to  dinner,  which  was  exactly  like  breakfast 
only  Aunt  Agnes  had  a  donkey  at  her  elbow. 
The  afternoon  service  was  the  same  as  the 
morning  and  Aunt  Agnes  again  looked  af- 
ter the  poor  sick  ones.  The  supper,  mother 
said,  was  exactly  as  remarkable  as  the  din- 
ner and  breakfast.  After  supper  the  neigh- 
bors came  in  and  asked  If  they  couldn't  sing 
hymns  together,  and  the  foreigners  and  Chi- 
nese sat  for  an  hour  or  two  singing.  I  am 
a  little  girl  and  not  very  wise,  but  It  does 
seem  lovely  to  me  that  though  our  ways  and 
our  languages  are  so  different,  we  have  the 
same  loving  Father  In  Heaven,  so  we  can't 
be  so  different,  after  all. 

When  the  singing  was  over  the  women 
still  gathered  for  more  medicine.  Aunt 
i\gnes  treated  them  all,  one  after  another, 
and  then  put  up  her  chest.  But  still  another 
woman  had  a  sickness,  when  she  awoke  In 
the  morning  her  arm  was  often  numb. 
Couldn't  she  have  something?  Poor  Aunt 
Agnes  was  dreadfully  tired,  so  Mother  said, 
"Let  me  give  her  something."  She  took  an 
old  biscuit  box  and  put  the  rest  of  their  alco- 
hol In  It,  and  told  her  to  rub  it  on  when  she 
felt  the  trouble  In  her  arm.  So  finally  the 
ladles  were  allowed  to  go  to  sleep.  The 
next  morning  the  ride  home  was  much  easier 
because  the  snow  was  dry,  and  I  guess  from 

37 


what  my  mother  said,  her  heart  just  ran 
ahead  of  the  chairs  all  the  way,  she  was  so 
eager  to  reach  us  children. 

Now  I  have  told  you  the  trip  as  nearly 
as  I  could  remember  it  as  Mother  told  us.  I 
must  tell  you  one  thing  that,  of  course,  she 
would  not  tell,  but  I  know  it  must  have  hap- 
pened,— it  always  happens  everywhere. 
That  is  how  she  won  the  love  of  those 
women,  and  how  they  clung  to  her.  I  don't 
believe  they  will  have  any  more  trouble  with 
the  heathen  women  in  that  village  since  they 
have  seen  my  mother.  I  must  tell  you  one 
more  story  about  a  woman  here,  and  then  1 
will  stop,  for  this  seems  awfully  long. 

One  day  my  mother  had  been  talking  to  a 
poor  old  woman  about  the  way  to  Jesus  and 
about  Heaven;  how  the  door  stood  open  to 
all  who  would  enter.  The  poor  old  woman 
suddenly  clasped  my  mother*s  hand  and  said, 
"Er  Si  Mu,  I  do  not  know  about  Heaven, 
but  I  know  you,  and  I  want  to  be  with  you 
and  go  where  you  go." 


^ 


CHAPTER    IV 


Tkrougk  tke  Magic  Gates 
of  a  Yatnen 


ESTERDAY  was  a  most  remark- 
able day;  when  I  tell  you  about 
it  I  guess  you'll  think  so  too. 
If  you  were  my  English  friends 
you  would  exclaim,  ''Only  fanqr/'  and  would 
not  guess  at  all. 

It  was  St.  Valentine's  Day.  Of  course 
the  Chinese  never  heard  of  such  a  person 
and  it  was  impossible  to  buy  a  single  valen- 
tine. My  mother  had  saved  up  all  last  year's 
valentines;  they  were  a  pretty  ragged  set, 
and  we  tried  to  play  they  were  bright  and 
new,  but  as  some  one  said,  "It  was  a  most 
awful  stretch  to  the  imagination,"  mine 
nearly  cracked  in  doing  it.  I  had  to 
pretend  I  had  a  fairy  in  my  heart  to  last  me 
all  the  year,  to  keep  from  crying.  I  think 
my  mother  is  perfectly  fine  in  making  games 
out  of  nothing.  I  remember  once  she  gave 
Billy  a  badge,  when  he  was  a  very  little  boy, 
for  not  crying  one  whimper  all  day,  and  he 
wore  it  around  as  proud  as  a  peacock. 

39 


Yesterday  she  thought  of  such  splendid 
new  fairy  games  to  make  the  day  seem  dif- 
ferent. After  awhile  she  was  called  away 
and  Jimmy,  who  Is  never  quiet,  chose  that 
time  to  throw  a  ball  through  the  nursery 
v/indow  and  then  stuck  his  head  through  af- 
ter It,  to  see  how  much  damage  he  had  done 
on  the  side  where  the  ball  struck.  You  will 
laugh  at  that,  but  it  Isn't  as  funny  as  it 
sounds,  for  It  is  still  Chinese  New  Year, 
which  means  nothing  to  you,  but  here  In 
China  it  will  be  ten  days  before  we  can  find 
a  man  who  will  mend  it.  As  the  weather  is 
very  cold,  I  suppose  we  will  have  to  take  the 
fresh-air  cure. 

When  we  had  quieted  down  a  little  after 
Jimmy's  mishap.  Mother  came  in,  her  hand 
just  full  of  American  mail,  and  loads  of — 
I  wonder  if  you  could  guess  what? — valen- 
tines! Our  dear  grandmother,  who  never 
forgets  any  holiday,  had  sent  them.  We 
just  shouted  and  chortled  in  our  joy. 
Mother  divided  them  up,  and  then  she  gave 
each  two  or  three,  and  we  went  out  In  turn, 
but  quite  secretly,  and  when  no  one  was  look- 
ing came  back,  and  knocked  on  the  front 
door,  and  when  we  heard  footsteps  coming 
we  ran  away,  leaving  a  valentine  marked 
plainly  for  each  of  the  others  on  the  door 
step.  It  was  such  fun,  and  we  played  at  it 
until  nearly  dinner  time.  Then  came  an- 
other lovely  surprise.  Mother  took  me 
aside  and  told  me  because  It  was  Valentine's 
Day  she  was  going  to  take  me  to  a  feast  at 

40 


the  Yamen.      I  danced  right  up  and  down 
when  I  heard  that  good  news,  for  I  dearly 
love  to  go  with  Mother,  but  somehow  she 
hardly  ever  takes  me  there.     We  had  to  be- 
gin to  dress  right  off,  for  there  was  no  tell- 
ing when  the  feast  would  begin.      The  po- 
lite way  in  China  is  for  the  lady  of  the  feast 
to  send  a  Yamen  runner  to  her  guests  every 
hour  or  two  to  say  the  feast  is  ready,  and 
when  she  sends   about  the  third  time  then 
you  go.      Mother  says  she  has  to  give  up 
almost   the   whole    day  to    a    feast,    and   I 
don't    think    she    enjoys    giving    so    much 
time,  but  she  likes  to  be  friendly  with  the 
women.      Mother  put  on  her  best  lavender 
Chinese  coat,  with  some  pretty  flowers  in  her 
soft  brown  hair,  and  she  did  look  so  sweet. 
If  you  asked  me  what  flower  I  thought  of 
when  I  thought  of  my  mother  I  should  say 
violets;  she  loves  them  so,  and  always  wears 
violet   or  lavender   or   lilac  when  she   can. 
My  aunties  in  America  laugh  and  say  that 
no  matter  what   color   she   expects   to    buy 
when  she   goes  shopping   for  a  gown — she 
always  comes  back  with  some  shade  of  vio- 
let. 

I  wore  my  very  best  v^^hite  dress  that  came 
for  Christmas,  and  I  had  my  hair  curled  and 
felt  so  stiff  and  starched.  I  thought  they 
never  would  send  the  servant  the  last  time. 
I  was  dreadfully  hungry;  besides,  Billy  and 
Jimmy  were  playing  a  fascinating  game  of 
making  mud  marbles  in  the  back  yard  and 


41 


1  was  crazy  to  join  them,  but  of  course  I 
couldn't  in  my  best  dress. 

At  last  we  started.  I  was  in  the  same 
sedan  chair  with  mother.  The  chair  looked 
very  gay  with  its  bright  tassels  and  curtains; 
and  as  we  were  carried  through  the  streets 
all  the  neighbors  ran  out  of  their  courts  and 
peered  in  at  the  little  windows  to  see  who 
was  riding  in  such  state;  they  would  turn  to 
each  other  and  say,  "The  foreign  ladies  are 
going  to  the  Yamen  today,"  and  then  they 
would  scream  it  to  some  neighbor  in  a  back 
court  who  could  not  come  out  to  see  for  her- 
self; so  altogether  we  made  quite  a  stir. 
I  really  couldn't  help  feeling  important. 

Very  soon  we  came  to  the  great  gates  of 
the  Yamen  and  our  bearers  put  our  chairs 
down,  and  we  sent  our  large  red  calling  card 
in  to  the  Tai  Tai  to  tell  of  our 
arrival.  While  we  waited  the  usual 
Chinese  crowd  gathered  around  our  chair, 
and  again  the  men  leaned  way  over  and 
looked  into  the  chair  to  see  who  we 
were  and  what  we  had  on.  After  wait- 
ing, it  seemed  to  me  a  very  long  time, 
the  gates  were  thrown  open  and  we  were 
carried  through  the  men's  court  to  the  gates 
before  the  women's  part  of  the  Yamen. 
These  gates  too  were  thrown  wide — doesn't 
that  sound  like  Cinderella? — and  we  were 
carried  up  the  open  court  to  the  steps  In 
front  of  the  guest-room.  I  always  love  the 
way  we  go  Into  the  Yamen,  It  seems  exactly 
the  same  as  the  fairy  stories  and  Arabian 


Nights,  with  all  the  form  and  the  swinging 
back  of  doors  and  bowing  menials.  If  only 
the  menials  weren't  so  ragged  and  dirty,  and 
the  Yamen  so  bare  and  dusty.  When  I  try 
to  pretend  that  the  houses  are  tiled  with 
gold  and  the  rooms  are  decked  in  fine 
tapestry  instead  of  cobwebs  I  have  to  shut 
my  eyes  to  do  it.  Now  I  must  hurry,  for 
all  this  time  I  have  been  talking  the  Tai  Tai 
had  been  standing  waiting  for  us  to  descend 
from  our  gilded  chariots — our  moth-eaten 
sedan  chairs,  truly;  our  flunkies — the  chair 
coolies — stood  aside  while  the  Tai  Tai's 
amah  hurried  out  to  help  us  alight  and  walk 
to  where  the  head  Tai  Tai  stood  bowing  and 
smiling  and  firmly  shaking  her  own  hands. 
You  must  remember  it  was  very  necessary 
for  us  to  have  the  amah  help  us  walk,  for 
even  my  feet  were  supposed  to  be  bound  and, 
of  course,  that  makes  it  very  hard  for  us  to 
move.  Finally  we  reached  the  bowing  man- 
dariness  and  Mother  took  her  glasses  off  her 
nose  in  order  to  be  very  polite,  and  bowed 
and  I  bowed  and  we  all  murmured  under  our 
breath  that  she  was  doing  us  too  much 
honor.  At  last  it  seemed  to  strike  our  host- 
ess that  it  was  time  to  lead  us  in.  She  had 
on  a  beautiful  embroidered  coat  and  I  heard 
one  of  the  foreign  ladles  murmur  In  English 
behind  me,  "What  a  gorgeous  evening 
coat!" 

There  were  two  or  three  Chinese  ladies 
in  the  guest-room,  to  whom  my  mother  had 
to  begin  the  same  old  polite  remarks,  while 

43 


the  other  foreign  ladles  did  the  same.  Then 
all  the  foreign  ladles  gave  back  their  invita- 
tions to  the  feast,  with  more  bows  and  po- 
liteness. After  this  came  the  great  cere- 
mony of  getting  seated.  My  mother  was 
the  guest  of  honor  and  must  take  the  high- 
est place.  My  mother  knew  this  was  the 
case,  and  the  Tai  Tai  knew  that  my  mother 
knew  that  this  was  the  polite  thing  to  do,  and 
all  the  Chinese  ladles  and  the  foreign  ladles 
knew  the  custom ;  yet  they  had  to  protest  and 
beg  and  beseech  and  refuse  and  resist  and 
the  like — as  my  Latin  rules  put  it — until  they 
were  all  tired  out.  In  the  end  my 
mother  sank  exhausted  where  she  had 
known  she  was  to  be  all  the  time,  the  rest 
of  the  guests  followed  and  we  were  soon  all 
seated  and  glad  of  the  hot  tea  to  freshen  up 
our  tired  manners.  I  had  a  chance  to  peep 
around  while  the  others  were  talking,  and  I 
must  confess  that  one  needed  an  unusually 
strong  magical  wand  to  turn  this  room  Into 
a  fairy  palace.  The  floors  were  rough 
stone,  later  we  found  in  the  bedrooms  there 
were  bare  boards;  there  were  no  ceilings  but 
thatched  roofs,  the  one  window  in  each  room 
had  one  small  pane  of  glass,  the  rest  were 
pasted  up  with  paper.  In  the  inner  room 
to  which  we  were  invited  after  we  had  fin- 
ished with  the  tea,  were  several  trunks  piled 
up  in  a  corner;  and  in  another  was  a  large 
carved  bedstead  with  curtains  of  light  blue 
calico — the  whole  place  really  needed  Alad- 
din very  badly  indeed.   Yet  the  ladies'  gowns 

44 


were  most  beautiful,  all  satin  and  em- 
broidery. 

While  we  were  still  in  the  first  room,  "sip- 
ping our  Bohea"  like  "Prince  Finnikin  and 
his  Mamma,"  my  mother  started  the  polite 
conversation.  She  turned  to  the  first  Tai 
Tai  and  asked  to  know  "her  most  honorable 
name."  It  seemed  her  "very  unworthy 

name"  was  "Wang" ;  then  she  turned  to  the 
next  lady,  her  name  also  was  "Wang,"  and 
still  another  was  called  "Wang"  too.  You 
can  see  by  this  there  are  plenty  of  Wangs  in 
China. 

Then  the  amah,  after  trying  a  water  pipe, 
handed  it  to  Mother.  All  the  Chinese  ladies 
were  smoking,  but  of  course  Mother  refused, 
as  did  the  rest  of  the  foreigners.  So  the 
Tai  Tai  whispered  to  the  amah  and  away 
she  ran  and  brought  back  a  plate  on  which 
were  laid  a  box  of  matches  and  some  of  the 
very  largest  cigars  I  ever  saw.  They  re- 
fused, without  a  smile,  but  I  had  to  think 
of  something  very  sad  to  keep  from  laughing 
right  out  loud,  but  I  think  it  showed  how 
truly  polite  they  were. 

Then  my  mother  tried  to  make  more  con- 
versation; she  remembered  she  had  heard 
one  of  the  brothers  had  been  married  lately, 
so  she  said  in  her  politest  manner,  "May  I 
ask  which  of  you  ladies  is  the  bride?"  They 
all  looked  at  each  other.  "What  does  she 
say?"  they  asked.  She  tried  again.  Still 
they  looked  blank.  At  a  last  attempt  one 
of  the  amahs  understood  and  translated  to 

45 


the  ladies.  We  saw  in  a  minute,  from  their 
surprise,  it  was  a  break  and  one  of  the  ladies 
answered,  "She  is  not  here."  When  they 
took  us  into  the  other  room  we  knew  why 
they  had  been  so  surprised,  for  there  in  one 
corner  stood  the  bride  bowing  very  low. 

You  must  remember  that  going  from  one 
room  to  another  was  not  as  simple  as  It 
sounds,  for  each  time  we  had  to  go  through 
the  same  polite  ceremonies  as  we  did  when 
we  were  first  seated,  and  as  each  lady  had  an 
amah  or  two  to  support  her  swaying  foot- 
steps, it  was  a  complicated  affair.  The 
bride  was  very  gay  in  her  scarlet  coat  and 
skirt,  her  face  powdered  white,  her  eye- 
brows and  hair  blackened,  with  red  cheeks 
and  lips,  and  so  many  queer  rings  and  brace- 
lets; but  I  don't  think  she  looked  really 
pretty.  Again  we  had  to  drink  tea  with  the 
bride,  and  ask  more  polite  questions,  at  least 
the  Chinese  call  them  polite;  their  ideas  are 
different  from  ours,  but  they  are  the  most 
polite  people  in  the  world. 

We  all  sipped  tea  as  noisily  as  possible 
so  that  our  hostesses  should  understand  we 
considered  it  delicious.  Then  once  again 
the  chief  Tai  Tai  asked  us  to  go  Into  another 
room.  It  was  the  first  room  we  had  seen, 
but  while  we  were  away  admiring  the  little 
bride  a  great  change  had  been  wrought. 

The  table  had  been  moved  Into  the  mid- 
dle of  the  room  and  at  each  place  was  a  pair 
of  ivory  and  silver  chop  sticks.  Along  the 
middle  of  the  table  were  laid  little  plates, 


each  having  a  pile  of  Chinese  dainties;  tur- 
nips cut  into  pretty  shapes,  slices  of  pear, 
pomegranate,  buried  eggs,  cold  fat  ham, 
dates,  bits  of  orange,  and  many  other  things. 
Near  the  seat  of  honor  stood  a  man  with  a 
little  metal  bowl  on  a  tray;  the  great  Tai 
Tai,  steadying  herself  by  the  back  of  the 
chairs,  made  her  way  around  the  table  until 
she  came  near  the  highest  seat,  then  she  took 
the  bowl  of  wine  from  the  tray  and,  holding 
it  in  both  hands,  made  a  pretty  bow  to  my 
mother,  and  asked  her  to  be  seated.  She 
did  this  to  the  foreign  ladies,  in  turn,  then 
the  Chinese  ladies  slipped  Into  their  places 
and  the  feast  began. 

It  would  take  me  nearly  all  winter,  I  be- 
lieve, if  I  told  you  all  we  had  to  eat,  and 
you  probably  would  never  go  to  a  Chinese 
feast  if  I  did,  and  then  you  would  miss  lots 
of  fun  and  many  good  things. 

We  had  course  after  course,  some  like  the 
"little  girl  with  the  little  curl,"  very  good, 
— others  horrid.  Everything  was  either 
very  oily  or  very  sweet,  and  all  boiling  hot. 

My  mother  says  she  can  eat  the  shark* s^ 
fins  with  a  smile,  worry  down  the  black  sea 
slugs  and  the  buried  eggs,  but  the  worst  of 
all  is  to  think  up  conversation  through  the 
many  unending  courses.  Chinese  ladies  are 
not  allowed  to  go  outside  their  houses  ex- 
cept in  sedan  chairs ;  they  can  not  read,  and 
they  spend  their  days  sewing,  quarreling,  and 
smoking.  My  hair  was  the  subject  for  two 
or  three  courses, — how  beautiful  it  was,  and 


what  a  lovely  skin  I  had,  and  my  eyes  were 
as  blue  as  the  sky  ,  and  I  spoke  Chinese  bet- 
ter than  the  ladies  did  themselves.  I  saw 
my  mother  look  very  uneasy  and  try  and 
talk  about  American  children  and  how  they 
were  taught  to  obey.  I  knew  she  didn't  like 
me  to  hear  all  the  compliments,  that's  one 
reason  she  so  seldom  takes  me  to  the  Yamen 
— ^but  of  course  I  had  sense  enough  to  know 
they  did  not  really  mean  it,  and  were  only 
being  polite.  Towards  the  end  of  the  feast 
they  began  to  talk  about  the  famine  that  was 
growing  very  bad  around  us,  and  one  of  the 
ladies  said  that  two  or  three  prisoners  died 
of  hunger  every  day.  The  prison  was  un- 
der the  same  roof  as  the  Yamen,  and  my 
mother  said,  when  she  heard  that,  the  feast 
fairly  choked  her,  and  she  felt  she  must  get 
away.  You  see,  the  government  gives  each 
prisoner  a  certain  number  of  cash  for  food. 
It  would  be  enough  to  keep  the  prisoners 
alive,  but  the  officials  put  most  of  the  money 
into  their  own  pockets.  Well,  at  last,  the 
servant  passed  around  a  tin  basin  full  of 
warm  water  with  a  greyish  rag  floating  in  it, 
each  guest  being  supposed  to  bury  their  face 
in  the  rag  to  remove  all  traces  of  the  meal. 
I  noticed  the  foreign  ladies  touched  it  pretty 
gingerly,  and  that  marked  the  end  of  the 
feast. 

As  usually,  Mother  was  surrounded  by  the 
ladies  who  were  loath  to  let  her  go,  and 
begged  her  eagerly  to  come  again, — they 
seemed  to  feel  she  had  something  they  need- 

48 


ed  though  thy  couldn't  tell   at  all  what  It 
was. 

As  we  climbed  into  our  sedan  chairs  the 
moon  poured  over  the  court,  the  darkness 
hid  all  the  dirt  and  barrenness,  and  the 
moonlight  made  the  big  carved  gates  look  so 
splendid,  I  did  not  have  to  pretend  at  all. 
It  is  strange  to  me  how  my  mother  interests 
all  the  Chinese,  rich  and  poor.  While  I 
have  been  writing  this  story  about  the  feast, 
I  heard  her  talking  to  one  of  the  poor 
women  who  has  come  in  from  the  country  to 
study  about  the  Doctrine.  Mother  says  she 
would  get  on  much  faster,  but  the  poor  old 
soul  is  very  deaf.  Mother  fairly  roared 
into  her  ears  the  story  of  the  Prodigal  Son. 
When  she  had  finished  the  woman  turned 
to  her  niece,  who  was  standing  by,  and  said, 
with  a  placid  smile,  ''I  can't  understand  her, 
you  know  I'm  a  little  deaf,"  and  the  niece  ex- 
plained to  my  mother,  "You'll  have  to  talk 
as  though  you  were  quarreling  with  her." 
Just  the  same,  the  old  lady  seems  to  have 
gathered  a  good  deal  more  from  my 
mother's  teaching  than  a  great  many 
brighter  Christians  in  America,  for  she  loves 
to  go  to  church,  and  says,  "I  can't  hear  the 
prayers,  and  the  sermon,  and  I  can't  sing 
the  hymns — but  I  can  sit  awhile  before  the 
Lord." 


49 


CHAPTER    V 


The  Exciting  Voyage  of 
a  Houseboat 


B 


ILLY,  Jimmy  and  I  feel  a  good 
deal  like  cannibals  or  graveyards 
this  afternoon.  I  suppose  you 
wonder  why,  so  I  will  hurry  to 

tell  you. 

When  we  came  back  from  our  summer 
vacation.  Tain  Si  Fu,  our  cook,  gave  us  six 
pigeons;  three  to  us  children  for  pets,  and 
three  to  Daddy  and  Mother  for  the  table; 
but  they  were  all  put  in  one  small  pigeon 
house.  We  children  grew  very  fond  of 
them,  feeding  them  faithfully  with  corn  and 
other  things  until  they  were  as  plump 
as  partridges.  At  last  today  Mother 
felt  we  must  eat  the  three  that  Tain  Si  Fu 
had  given  her  and  Daddy,  or  he  would  be 
hurt.  Of  course  we  all  hated  to  lose  our 
pets  and  when  I  came  to  the  table  and  saw 
them  looking  so  different  from  the  proud 
pigeons  that  used  to  strut  about  the  yard  and 
stick  out  their  breasts  in  such  a  conceited 
way,  and  who  used  to  fly  down  so  quickly 
when    we    brought    them    their    dinner,    I 

51 


didn't  know  whether  to  laugh  or  to  cry — 
still  we  all  wanted  to  taste.  Jimmy  took 
the  first  bite  very  doubtfully,  smacked  his 
lips,  and  said,  with  a  sad,  sweet  smile,  "How 
comfy  does  other  pigeons  are,  in  dere  little 
house  when  dey  sit  down,  now  dese  ones 
are  gone." 

That  comforted  us  so  much  and  the  pig- 
eons were  so  delicious  we  all  ate  a  great 
deal,  but  after  dinner  when  I  went  out  and 
saw  only  three  pigeons  it  made  me  feel  very 
solemn,  and  I  decided  to  write  a  story  this 
afternoon,  and  perhaps  I  would  forget  about 
being  a  cannibal. 

Hwai  Yuan  I  like,  and  Ruling  I  like,  but 
it's  awful  on  the  plains  between  except  at 
Mrs.  Molland's  house,  that  seems  like  a  kind 
of  place  to  cuddle  down  in. 

Every  summer  we  go  to  the  mountains 
because  it  is  too  hot  for  children  and  ladies 
in  Hwai  Yuan,  but  it  means  such  a  trip. 
Sometimes  three  or  four  weeks  when  we  go 
by  houseboat;  ten  days  or  more  if  we  go  by 
sedan  chair,  and  that  is  dreadfully  hard  trav- 
eling, putting  up  at  night  in  the  stuffy,  dirty 
Chinese  inns  and  being  carried  all  day  long 
on  the  shoulders  of  quarreling  coolies. 
When  we  reach  home  we  are  just  worn  out. 
Mother  hates  the  houseboat  even  worse, 
though  it  Is  much  easier,  because  It  was  on 
the  first  houseboat  trip  that  our  little  Harry 
was  taken  so  ill,  and  she  always  is  afraid 
what  may  happen.  Soon  we  hope  to  have 
a   railroad   and  then   it  will  be  fine  taking 

52 


only  a  day  or  two;  It  will  make  us  feel  so 
civilized. 

This  fall  there  were  so  many  people  and 
such  a  crowd  of  boxes  we  had  to  go  by 
houseboat.  It  took  three  boats  to  carry  us 
all.  When  I  tell  you  there  were  three  hun- 
dred boxes,  I  think  you  will  be  surprised. 
Among  the  things  were  a  piano,  a  church  or- 
gan, coal,  a  pulpit,  and  eighteen  beds;  all 
our  winter  stores,  potatoes,  and  groceries; 
all  Auntie  Jeanie's  things  from  home,  a  violin 
and  housekeeping  utensils  for  some  of  the 
others,  and  a  lot  of  things  I  can't  remember. 

I  wish  I  could  draw  you  a  picture  of  a 
houseboat.  You  probably  would  think  it  a 
great  lark  to  travel  on  one  the  first  trip,  even 
to  the  living  on  fricassee  chicken  for  three  or 
four  weeks  running ;  but  to  do  It  twice  a  year 
grows  very  tiresome.  In  the  bow  of  the 
boat  is  the  front  deck,  of  course,  under 
which  the  boatmen  sleep.  They  put  down 
the  planks  every  night,  and  why  they  aren't 
smothered  before  morning  we  have  never 
been  able  to  discover;  for  not  a  sign  of  a  win- 
dow do  they  have,  and  all  the  air  the  three  or 
four  men  get  sifts  through  the  cracks.  They 
always  bob  up  serenely  next  day,  so  I  don't 
believe  we  need  as  much  air  as  the  doctors 
say  we  do. 

Behind  the  deck  comes  a  little  room  where 
they  do  the  cooking;  you  have  to  walk 
through  this  to  get  to  the  living-room,  din- 
ing-room, dressing-room,  sleeping-room,  all 
combined.       Again  behind  that  is  another 

S3 


room,  and  beyond  that  again  are  quarters 
for  the  boatman's  family. 

On  this  trip  there  were  Aunt  Peggie,  Aunt 
Agnes  and  Auntie  Jeanie,  beside  Daddy, 
Mother  and  we  four  children.  You  will 
understand  if  I  quote  the  poem  we  learned  in 
the  Reader,  "We  were  crowded  in  the 
cabin."  We  had  beds  on  every  spot  and 
box  where  a  bed  could  be  put,  and  some 
places  where  they  couldn't.  In  the  day  time 
the  bedding  had  to  be  folded  and  put  away 
so  we  could  use  the  spots  and  boxes  as 
chairs.  As  Mother  complained,  '*It  made 
getting  dressed  and  the  room  ready  for 
breakfast,  very  complicated." 

I  must  hasten  to  explain  that  our  trip  was 
up  the  Grand  Canal,  on  which  the  current 
was  terribly  swift  on  account  of  the  floods, 
through  the  lakes,  and  up  the  Hwai  River. 
The  first  part  of  the  way  we  were  tugged 
by  a  launch,  the  rest  of  the  way  we  sailed 
when  we  had  a  following  wind,  which  we 
seldom  had,  and  were  towed  when  the  wind 
failed  or  was  ahead.  That,  as  you  can  eas- 
ily imagine,  was  slow  work,  but  in  China  time 
and  tide  wait  for  everybody. 

Well,  it  took  Daddy  even  longer  to  get 
the  boats  loaded  than  I  have  taken  to  de- 
scribe it,  and  in  the  meantime  we  stayed 
with  friends  at  Yang  Chow.  At  length, 
however,  every  box,  piece  of  coal  and  po- 
tato were  on  board,  the  boat  tied  to  the 
launch,  and  they  steamed  along  the  canal  to 
pick  us  up  at  Yang  Chow. 

.S4 


We  started  off  gay  and  happy  as  you 
please,  amid  the  usual  Chinese  din  of  yells 
and  jeers,  firecrackers  and  cackling  hens, 
while  we  stood  and  waved  good-bye  until 
our  friends  disappeared  behind  a  bend  in 
the  river. 

It  took  a  good  many  hours  to  get  our 
bags  and  bundles  stowed  away,  for  the  boat 
had  been  pressed  down  and  running  over 
before,  and  with  all  the  added  people  and 
bedding  it  was  as  good  as  a  puzzle  picture  to 
get  things  "put  and  stay  put,"  as  some  one 
wisely  remarked. 

We  children  went  out  on  deck  to  be  out 
of  the  way  and  watch  the  chickens,  for  in 
China  one  carries  all  the  chickens  one  ex- 
pects to  eat,  in  coops,  along  with  one.  The 
idea  is  to  feed  them  up  in  the  hope  they  will 
grow  fat  and  tender,  but  as  far  as  I  can 
remember,  it  was  always  a  vain  hope. 

We  watched  the  shores  with  the  mud  vil- 
lages, and  the  dirty  pigs,  dogs  and  ragged 
children,  and  the  barges  full  of  country  peo- 
ple and  all  their  worldly  belongings  that 
were  fleeing  south  away  from  the  famine. 
All  the  world  seemed  under  water  except 
the  banks  of  the  canal  and  a  few  farm- 
houses here  and  there  that  stood  above  the 
flood  mark.  Then  we  grew  tired  and  be- 
gan to  watch  the  boat  people.  The  man 
who  owns  the  boat  always  lives  on  It  with 
his  whole  family;  it  may  be  a  large  one, 
in  fact,  it  always  is.       We  children  enjoy 


watching  them  cook  their  food,  and  burn 
their  Incense,  though  my  mother  hates  to 
have  us  hear  them  swear  and  quarrel. 

Once  when  we  were  on  a  boat  the  man 
w^ho  owned  it  was  111,  and  he  thought  he  was 
going  to  die,  so  he  took  his  coffin  along  with 
him.  He  thought  It  would  be  "inconveni- 
ent'' to  die  on  the  boat,  so  he  asked  us  to 
wait  over  a  day  and  see  what  happened. 

That  evening  his  old  aunt  walked  around 
the  boat  calling  in  the  most  weird  voice  for 
his  soul  to  come  back ;  it  made  my  back  bone 
creep.  Then  one  of  the  sons  went  out  Into 
the  fields  and  he  was  supposed  to  be  the 
soul,  and  he  called  In  a  still  more  frighten- 
ing voice,  "Coming,  coming."  It  just  made 
me  shiver  and  hold  my  mother's  hand.  I 
wonder  how  the  sick  man  felt;  however, 
he  wasn't  so  very  111  and  we  went  on  the 
next  day. 

By  the  time  we  had  grown  tired  of  watch- 
ing the  sailors  and  the  old  father  of  them 
all  burning  his  joss  sticks  before  their  eve- 
ning offering  of  rice,  Mother  called  us  in  to 
supper.  We  perched  on  boxes  and  chairs  and 
beds,  at  all  sorts  of  angles,  and  ate  our  first 
wings  and  drumsticks  of  the  daily  chicken 
amid  shouts  of  laughter.  Auntie  Jeanle, 
Mother  and  Daddy  can  always  see  the  funny 
side  of  the  most  uncomfortable  happenings, 
so  they  often  turn  mishaps  that  other  people 
would  talk  about  with  long  faces  for  days, 
into  picnic  parties. 

Tt  took  a  very  long  time  to  settle  into  bed 

56 


that  night,  though  we  started  right  after 
supper,  for  there  seemed  not  a  single  place  to 
put  anything,  and  in  the  dim  light  of  candles 
and  lanterns,  things  slipped  behind  loose 
boards,  or  between  boxes  into  the  most  un- 
likely places. 

Billy  and  I  couldn't  help  thinking  what 
fun  it  would  be  if  the  organ,  piano  and  vio- 
lin should  begin  to  play  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  but  we  all  drew  the  line  at  having  the 
pulpit  begin  to  preach.  However,  we  had 
a  very  different  kind  of  music!  As  one  by 
one  we  dropped  to  sleep,  the  last  thing  we 
heard  was  the  rushing  of  the  water  on  our 
bows,  and  the  distant  barking  of  dogs  on 
the  bank,  as  we  swung  swiftly  along,  towed 
by  the  launch. 

Suddenly,  about  two  o'clock  there  was  a 
crash,  and  we  started  up  in  bed,  at  the 
frightened  yells  of  the  boat  people.  There 
was  running  over  our  heads,  calls  to  and 
from  the  distant  launch,  our  boat  gave  a 
shake  and  tremble,  and  it  seemed  as  if  we 
must  go  over.  We  had  struck  a  rock,  and 
the  launch  threw  off  the  tow  rope.  Our 
boat  stood  still  a  minute  and  then  was  car- 
ried away  by  the  terribly  swift  current.  The 
Grand  Canal  is  not  the  quiet,  peaceful,  gen- 
tle water  the  canals  in  America  are.  It  is 
quite  wide  in  places,  and  after  the  high  rains 
the  water  flows  as  fast  as  a  river.  We  were 
all  terribly  surprised  and  frightened,  but, 
as  usual,  Daddie  and  Mother  quieted  our 
fears.      Daddy  told  us  to  dress  quickly,  and 

57 


Mother,  very  calm,  though  her  voice  shook  a 
little  when  she  spoke,  found  our  lost  stock- 
ings and  shoes,  and  helped  us  bundle  up 
warm.  You  can  imagine  the  hubbub,  all 
those  people  having  to  find  their  things  in 
the  dim  light  in  those  crowded  cabins.  The 
sailors  had  to  come  in,  and  found  two  feet 
of  water  under  the  floor,  and  it  looked 
pretty  serious.  In  a  good  deal  shorter  time 
than  you  would  think  possible,  we  were 
dressed  and  ready  for  the  worst  or  best, 
for  we  did  not  know  at  what  moment  we 
would  sink.  The  water  looked  awfully  cold 
and  cruel,  and  the  night  was  so  very  dark; 
the  only  comfort  was  the  lights  of  the  launch 
in  the  distance,  and  the  touch  of  my  dear 
mother's  hand. 

When  things  seemed  very  bad  indeed  the 
sailors,  who  had  by  this  time  gotten  their 
poles  and  oars  out,  gave  a  shout,  and  by 
much  poling,  rowing  and  yelling,  pushed  us 
up  on  the  bank. 

Then,  of  course,  they  had  to  stop  the 
hole  In  our  hold,  and  finally,  after  a  long 
time,  they  patched  it  up  so  a  tug  could  tow 
us  to  the  next  city,  where  it  could  be  prop- 
erly mended.  You  can  easily  understand 
without  much  explaining  that  we  could  not 
exactly  call  that  a  peaceful  night's  sleep. 
The  next  morning,  after  they  had  pulled 
their  courage  together,  the  family  started  In 
to  see  what  damage  had  been  done  by  the 
^  ater  In  the  hold.  As  the  grown  people 
said,    "Tt  didn't  exactly    help    the    burning 

58 


powers  of  the  coal,  and  the  flavor  of  pota- 
ties  to  have  them  soaked,  but  it  was  still 
harder  on  the  books,  the  linen,  and  the  vio- 
lin." However,  the  organ  and  the  piano 
were  untouched  and  only  the  violin  case 
damaged.  We  spread  the  books  and  linen 
out  to  dry  so  that  they  would  not  mildew, 
and  the  outside  of  the  boat  looked  like  "rag 
fair" — whatever  that  may  be;  but  no  one 
cares  for  looks  in  the  middle  of  China, 
where  whatever  a  foreigner  does  is  consid- 
ered half  crazy  any  way. 

You  are  probably  saying  that  this  acci- 
dent on  the  houseboat  was  a  very  unusual 
thing,  and  if  I  wasn't  so  anxious  to  go  and 
play  I  would  tell  you  some  more  about  our 
different  trips,  then  perhaps  you  would  un- 
derstand why  my  mother  dreaded  them  so. 
How  they  are  almost  always  dangerous  on 
account  of  river  pirates;  how  sometimes  the 
boats  have  been  filled  with  rats  so  that  they 
ran  over  us  at  night;  how  we  have  to  drink 
the  canal  water  into  which  everything  is 
thrown.  That  is  why  dear  little  Harry 
didn't  have  any  chance  when  he  was  ill. 
Then  there  is  always  danger  from  riots  at 
unfriendly  villages  where  the  boats  tie  up 
at  night;  and  last  but  not  least,  we  have  to 
go  through  the  locks  where  there  is  always 
great  danger  of  the  rotten  Chinese  ropes 
breaking  and  the  boat  being  upset  in  the 
swift  rapids.  People  have  been  drowned 
there  before  now. 


59 


I  think  my  mother  is  very  brave  to  go 
through  all  these  dangers  twice  a  year  for 
us  children,  for,  of  course,  she  is  never 
frightened  about  herself.  She  never  thinks 
of  herself  at  all.  I  really  think  she  is  one 
of  the  bravest  people  in  the  world.  Why, 
when  Uncle  Sam's  house  burned  down,  the 
women  and  children  were  sent  to  Aunt 
Rose's  house  for  safety,  but  my  mother 
stayed  behind  and  directed  the  Chinese 
coolies  where  to  throw  the  buckets  of 
water.  The  firemen  took  their  orders,  with- 
out a  protest,  from  a  despised  foreign 
woman,  though  I  don't  believe  any  one,  in 
their  heart  of  hearts,  ever  despised  my 
mother. 

Well,  of  course  you  can  guess  from  my 
writing  this  that  our  last  houseboat  jour- 
ney ended  in  safety.  You  could  never  un- 
derstand, unless  you  had  taken  the  journey, 
with  an  organ,  a  violin,  a  pulpit,  eighteen 
beds,  fricassee  chickens,  beside  women  and 
children,  how  perfectly  delighted  we  were 
when  we  sailed  around  the  last  curve  of  the 
Hwai  River,  and  old  West  Mountain  came 
into  view.  It  looked  awfully  pretty  that 
bright  October  morning,  with  the  queer 
Chinese  sails  on  the  winding  river,  with  East 
^nd  West  mountains  at  the  back  of  the 
picture  and  at  the  foot,  our  hospital  and 
church  spire  in  the  dear  little  town  of  Hwai 
Yuan. 

When  I  saw  the  Chinese  women  coming 
forward  to  greet  my  mother  and  welcome 

60 


her  home,  I  knew  she  felt  it  was  worth  the 
hard  trip,  and  that  she  was  so  glad  she  had 
the  joy  of  being  a  foreign  missionary. 


6i 


1^ 

CHAPTER    VI 

''In  TKat  Beautiful  Leiiicl" 

July,  19 14 

ERE  we  are  again  in  dear  old 
Kuling.  We  are  the  same  chil- 
dren, Nancy,  Billy,  Jimmy  and 
Baby  Gwen,  only  we  are  quite  a 
good  deal  bigger ;  the  bungalow  is  the  same, 
and  the  little  bridge  across  our  brook,  and 
the  mountains  with  their  queer  Chinese 
shapes;  and  our  good,  kind  friends  are  as 
lovely  as  ever.  None  of  these  things  or 
people  have  changed  at  all,  yet  it  seems  so 
different,  so  strange  and  queer  and  very 
empty.  Often  in  my  play  I  stop  and  listen, 
thinking  I  hear  a  voice  calling,  "Nancy, 
Nancy  dear,''  and  suddenly  I  remember  that 
that  can  not  be,  for  her  voice  never  calls 
me  now.  I  turn  again  and  try  to  play,  but 
the  play  spirit  is  gone  away,  for  I  no  longer 
have  a  loving  Mother  Into  whose  ear  I  can 
whisper  all  about  the  make-believe  games, 
one  who  knows  what  I  mean  without  the 
long  explaining  that  most  grown-up  people 
need. 

You  see,  it  came  about  in  this  way.     Af- 
ter the  terrible  famine  in  China,  all  the  mis- 

63 


sionaries  were  worn  out — Uncle  Sam  and 
Uncle  Bois  were  ill  with  fever  and  no  one 
thought  they  would  ever  get  well.  My 
Daddy  helped  to  nurse  them  and  when  they 
began  to  be  better,  he  grew  worse  and  worse 
until  the  doctors  got  together  and  sent  us 
home  to  America.  My  mother  was  just 
wonderful,  she  took  care  of  Daddie  and  was 
so  bright  and  cheery  even  when  she  was  wor- 
ried half  to  death  about  him. 

When  we  reached  home  Daddy  went  to 
one  grandmother's  and  we  children  to  the 
other's,  while  mother  went  back  and  forth 
between.  That  was  pretty  hard,  because 
when  she  was  in  one  place  she  was  wonder- 
ing what  was  happening  in  the  other,  but  she 
never  told  how  she  felt  except  once,  when 
she  said  to  a  friend  that  when  she  was  go- 
ing to  the  children  she  "just  wanted  to  get 
out  and  push  the  train."  How  we  would 
watch  for  her  coming  up  the  long  hill  from 
the  railroad  station,  and  rush  to  the  door 
to  be  the  first  to  kiss  her,  and  little  Gwen 
would  dance  around  shouting,  "Muddie," 
"Muddie,"  and  Mother  would  exclaim  over 
and  over  again,  "Oh,  you  precious  children, 
you  precious  children." 

Then  began  a  joyful  time,  for  Daddy  got 
better,  and  we  could  be  all  together  in  the 
mountains;  those  were  the  happiest  days  we 
ever  had  anywhere.  Mother  was  so  bright 
and  funny,  and  dear  and  good,  her  mind  was 
so  relieved  about  Daddy  she  could  scarcely 
keep   from  laughing  all  the  time,   her  soft 

64 


eyes  had  such  a  loving  light  in  them,  and 
when  she  made  a  joke  she  just  twinkled  all 
over. 

We  came  back  to  Pen-y-Craig  in  the  fall, 
and  suddenly  they  said  our  precious  mother 
was  ill,  so  we  must  keep  very  still.  We 
simply  stole  around  the  house,  and  tried  to 
be  just  as  quiet  as  good  children  could  be, 
talking  in  whispers.  One  or  two  days  we 
spent  with  friends,  and  we  did  not  realize 
then,  she  was  very  ill;  but  oh!  so  soon  they 
told  us  our  darling  Mother  had  gone  to  be 
with  Jesus.  It  must  be  very  beautiful  there, 
still  I  can't  help  feeling  she  must  have  hated 
to  leave  her  little  children  and  dear  Daddy. 

The  day  she  was  put  to  rest  was  very 
rainy,  but  as  they  carried  her  softly  out  and 
laid  her  gently  down  in  a  bed  of  beautiful 
purple  and  white  asters,  the  setting  sun  sud- 
denly filled  the  valleys  and  covered  the 
mountains,  and  in  the  end,  touched  her  rest- 
ing-place with  a  glorious  golden  light.  Then 
our  minister  repeated  the  words,  "The  pil- 
grim they  laid  in  a  large  upper  chamber, 
whose  window  opened  toward  the  rising  sun, 
the  name  of  the  chamber  was  peace,  where 
she  slept  till  break  of  day."  I  like  to  think 
of  her  sleeping  on  that  hilltop  with  the  moun- 
tains she  loved  around  her,  and  her  dear 
home  nestled  below  her.  She  seems  the 
guardian  angel  of  it  and  the  whole  town; 
and  not  alone  of  them  but  of  distant  China 
too;  for  in  the  tall  tower  of  our  beautiful 
church  above  **the  city  that  those  who  are 

65 


far  away  love,"  my  mother's  friends  have 
placed  a  clock  and  bell,  that  when  the  bell 
chimes  out  the  hours  foreigners  and  Chinese 
alike  may  think  tenderly  of  one  who  loved 
them  all  so  dearly  and  spent  her  life  for 
them. 

On  the  happy  Sunday  morning  when  the  bell 
rings  over  the  town  and  echoes  back  from 
the  hills,  calling  us  to  service,  I  whisper  in  my 
heart,  "My  mother  is  still  calling  us  as  she 
used  to  do,  to  leave  our  work  and  come  to 
pray  to  Him  who  gladly  died  for  us/'  But 
most  of  all  I  love  to  think  of  her  watching 
near  to  us  children  when  we  play,  and  when 
we  are  tired  and  going  to  bed,  I  can  almost 
feel  her  soft  hand  smoothing  my  hair  and 
pressing  gently  on  my  eyelids  to  make  me 
go  to  sleep — always  if  I  am  naughty  I  see 
her  dear  brown  eyes  looking  at  me  sadly. 

It  is  very  hard  for  a  little  girl  to  under- 
stand exactly  why  God  wanted  her  when  we 
needed  her  so  very  badly,  but  this  thought 
often  comforts  me.  You  know  how  my 
mother  loved  the  poor  stupid  Chinese  women 
and  how  many  she  helped  and  taught  to  love 
Jesus.  Now  our  Heavenly  Father  knew  they 
were  stupid  and  poor :  He  realized  that  when 
they  came  to  Heaven  they  would  be  lonely, 
frightened,  and  strange,  it  would  be  so  dif- 
ferent in  that  beautiful  place  from  their  dirty 
straw  huts,  and  muddy  courtyards  and 
streets.  I  think  He  has  taken  my  mother, 
whom  they  trusted  so  deeply,  to  greet  them 
and  make   Heaven  homelike  to  them,   for 

66 


surely  they  never  could  feel  clumsy  nor 
homesick  nor  shy  after  they  had  seen  her. 

I  can  just  see  her  stand  at  that  beautiful 
gate,  with  Harry,  and  Cousin  Tommy  at  her 
side  waiting  patiently  as  she  always  used  to 
do  to  welcome  those  timid  Chinese  women. 
She  would  run  forward,  her  hands  out- 
stretched and  her  face  all  shining  with  love 
and  joy,  eager  to  show  them  how  much  more 
beautiful  this  new  country  was  than  they 
ever  could  have  dreamed;  and  at  last  they 
will  understand  what  she  had  meant  when 
she  told  them  in  poor  famine-stricken  China 
that  they  should  never  be  hungry  any  more 
nor  thirsty,  nor  sick,  and  best  of  all,  she  will 
lead  them  to  the  King  in  all  His  wonderful 
beauty — and  to  the  loving  Shepherd  who 
had  come  to  earth  to  seek  them  when  they 
were  lost. 

Can  you  see  why  that  country  does  not 
seem  very  far  off  or  strange  to  us  children, 
with  our  precious  mother  there? 


67 


The   Song  of  the  Women 

How  shall  she  know  the  worship  we  would 

do  her  I 

The  walls  are  high,  and  she  is  very  far. 

How  shall  the  women's  message  reach  unto 

her 

Above  the  tumult  of  the  packed  bazaar? 

Free    wind   of    March    against   the   lattice 

blowing, 
Bear  thou  our  thanks,  lest  she  depart  un- 
knowing. 

Go  forth  across  the  fields  we  may  not  roam 
in; 
Go  forth  beyond  the  trees  that  rim  the 
city. 

To  whatsoe'er  fair  place  she  hath  her  home 
in, 
Who  dowered  us  with  wealth  of  love  and 
pity; 

Out  of  our  shadow  pass  and  seek  her,  sing- 
ing, 

"I  have  no  gifts  but  love  alone  for  bring- 
ing." 

Say  that  we  be  a  feeble  folk  who  greet  her. 
But  old  in  grief,  and  very  wise  in  tears; 

Say  that  we,  being  desolate,  entreat  her 
That  she  forget  us  not  in  after  years ; 

For  we  have  seen  the  light,   and  it  were 
grievous 

To  dim  that  dawning  if  our  lady  leave  us. 

69 


By  life  that  ebbed  with  none  to  stanch  the 
falling) 
By  love's   sad   harvest   garnered   in   the 
spring, 

When  love  in  ignorance  wept  unavailing 
0*er  young  buds  dead  before  their  blos- 
soming ; 

By  all  the  gray  owl  watched,  the  pale  moon 
viewed, 

In  past  grim  years,  declare  our  gratitude  I 

0  *  *  * 

Go  forth,  O  wind,  our  message  on  thy  wings, 
And  they  shall  hear  thee  pass  and  bid 

thee  speed, — 
In  reed-roofed  hut,  or  white-walled  home  of 

kings, — 
Who  have  been  helpen  by  her  in  their 

need. 
All  spring  shall  give  thee  fragrance,  and  the 

wheat 
Shall  be  a  tasselled  floor  cloth  to  thy  feet. 

Haste,  for  our  hearts  are  with  thee;  take  no 
rest, 
Loud-voiced  ambassador,  from  sea  to  sea. 
Proclaim  the  bbssing,  manifold,  confest. 
Of  those  in   darkness,  by  her  hand   set 
free; 
I'hen  very  softly  to  her  presence  move. 
And  whisper,   "Lady,   lo,   they  know   and 
lovcl^' 

RuDYARD  Kipling. 
Selected, 


70 


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